


The Ragged Edge

by icarus_chained



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Androids, Declarations Of Love, Demonstration of Trust, Friendship/Love, Intense, M/M, Partnership, Prompt Fic, Protectiveness, Robots, Scars, Trust, Violence, Vulnerability, near misses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 02:19:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5357243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarus_chained/pseuds/icarus_chained
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are times when the Sole Survivor cannot help thinking about that gaping tear in Nick's throat. The vulnerability of it, how much it shows he's been hurt, how much ... how much trust he must have to let anyone near it. How much trust he must have to let <i>Sole</i> near it. Though, admittedly, Sole hadn't expected that part. Not <i>at all</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ragged Edge

**Author's Note:**

> Um. This is another video game I haven't played, and another canon I don't entirely know. A friend on tumblr had a lot of posts recently about Nick Valentine, though, and ... well. Battered film noir robot detective in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. This is relevant to my interests on a couple of levels, yes? So I watched some things on youtube, and read some things, and browsed the kink meme, and then I came across [this prompt](http://falloutkinkmeme.livejournal.com/6099.html?thread=15950547#t15950547). I have such a thing for this. The throat, the vulnerability, the trust. So. Yes. Ah. I wrote a thing? My apologies in advance.

Sole growled and shoved Nick into the blind corner behind him, out of most of the immediate lines of fine. Nick stumbled a bit, bemused by his partner's aggravation, but didn't protest. Which was fortunate, because Sole was so not in the mood for that right now. He scanned the area, making sure they'd gotten the last of them, but took a little second to hiss back over his shoulder at the guy in annoyance.

"Is this your idea of staying behind cover while I'm gone? No wonder you're so dinged up!"

Nick chuckled. When Sole glanced back, he was wriggling the fingers of his metal hand through the new rip in his trenchcoat, looking mildly put out at best. "What can I say, pal. You got me addicted to a life of excitement. Besides. Dames love a guy who looks like he's been around the block a few times, don't they?"

Sole huffed, amused despite himself. "You must be irresistible, if that's the case. Damn, Nick. You gave me a heart attack out there. Try not to get yourself shot in the head, all right?"

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Wasn't like I was aiming for it or anything," he noted mildly. "Take it easy, fella. Give yourself an ulcer, worrying like that all the time. I'm all right. Take more than a few bullets to take down this old gumshoe, ya know?"

Sole exhaled, trying to let go of his nerves a little bit. Nothing moved around them. Looked like they'd actually got the last of them, then. And, okay, Nick wasn't wrong. They were both alive, and more or less in one piece. In around the same number they'd come in, anyway. It should be good enough to be getting on with.

Something about it had shook him, though. Just that sight. Nick stumbling, hissing in annoyance as a new rip opened up in the shoulder of his trench. Reaching up to check it automatically, just in case it had done damage. Maybe it was just how close it had come to Nick's throat, to those gaping tears that proved how much damage had already been done to the guy. How much damage _could_ be done. Nick was a tough old thing, no doubt, but he'd been bashed around a lot in his time. He wasn't invincible. The proof was right there any time Sole looked at him. This time, that bullet ... it had just brought it home, maybe. It had just made it that little bit more obvious how potentially fragile his friend could be.

"Hey, you all right over there?" Nick said. Sole blinked, looking up to find the detective squinting at him worriedly. "You've been staring at my neck for a couple of minutes now, Sole. Do I have something stuck there or what?"

Sole coughed, looking away for a second to focus on checking his weapon and getting it up out of the way. He scanned their surroundings one more time, more to avoid looking at Nick than out of any real worry, though he took his time and did it right as well. A little healthy paranoia never hurt nobody. Nick wasn't having it, though. The detective reached out and plucked lightly at Sole's shoulder, drawing his attention back the right way. The false skin around those glowing eyes was crinkled and worried-looking, when Sole gave in and looked at him again.

"Hey," Nick said softly. "I really am all right, you know. Just a bit of wear and tear. It's nothing I ain't had before, and nothin' I won't have again. Don't worry about it, huh?"

Sole stared at him. His eyes drifted down after a second, took back in those ragged tears in the false-skin of Nick's throat. He looked back up, his thoughts probably real visible in his face.

"Yeah," he said, with who-knew-what lurking in his tone. "I can see that, Nick. The wear and tear. It just ... gets me sometimes, is all. Never mind me."

Nick blinked, his eyes narrowing as he leaned back a bit and studied Sole's expression properly. He lowered his hand from Sole's shoulder, a pensive, thoughtful look coming over him. "It bothers you, huh?" he asked quietly. "It really does. What's up, Sole? I thought you got over that almost as soon as we'd met. You haven't seemed creeped out for a while now, anyway. I thought it didn't bother you."

He started to step back a bit as he said it, a hint of wariness and old sadness creeping into his expression, and Sole reached out to him immediately. He grabbed Nick's sleeve, gently, just enough to halt him, and let go again almost immediately. He didn't want Nick to look at him like a threat. Not now and not ever. He shook his head, trying to explain. Nick, to his eternal credit, stopping backing up long enough to let him.

"It's not that I'm creeped out," Sole tried, waving one hand somewhat uselessly in the air. "It's not that, Nick. I don't mind how you look, your dings and gears. It's just ..." He shrugged helplessly. "It makes me think sometimes, is all. How much shit you've been through. How easy some people find it to hurt you. Your wear and tear, it just ... I can't help thinking how it got there. It bothers me, yeah. I don't like thinking about people ripping chunks out of you. Sue me, huh? You're a friend, and I don't like knowing you've been hurt."

Nick stared at him, blinking rapidly. He looked like he didn't quite know what to do with that. There was confusion on his face, worry, maybe surprise and gratitude as well. For a banged up old prototype with half his skin hanging off, he sure had one hell of an expressive face. Sole wasn't too surprised, though. Nick made use of his face. He felt things, and he let them show. He had a human streak a mile wide, for all his wires and gears.

"... It's not hurt, you know," Nick said at last, a little cautiously. "I mean, not the way it would be for a human. Sure, I lost a few pieces here or there, but I wouldn't call it hurt. I'm all right, kid. Just got a few ragged edges. Gives an old synth character, wouldn't you say?"

Sole let out a breath. He felt his lips quirk, a pained sort of a smile. Of course that was Nick's answer. Damned bastard never gave too many thoughts for himself. 

He stepped back in towards the detective. They were backing up into that blind corner again. Nick had his back to a wall, nowhere to go. He didn't look alarmed, though. He just looked at Sole, that calm, worried look in his eyes. Worried for _Sole_ , not himself. Sole lifted his hand, and Nick just looked at him curiously, wondering what he needed, willing to let him take it if he wanted. That dark gap in his neck beckoned again, a reminder of just how much _could_ be taken, and Sole almost clenched his hand in the air, an empty fist of frustration. He didn't, though. He wanted something else just now.

"Can I ...?" he asked, and trailed off. He didn't have the words, couldn't explain what it was he was looking for. Nick didn't need any, it seemed. He just looked at Sole's face, nothing but pained sympathy in his mechanical eyes, and nodded. Stood still, so Sole could do whatever it was he needed. Sole closed his eyes for a second, a scrunch of pain, and then he opened them and let his hand follow through on his thoughts.

Nick didn't flinch when Sole's hand came to rest lightly on his collar. The right side of his neck, just below the largest of those gaping wounds. Sole didn't go higher just yet. Wouldn't, not until Nick understood what he wanted. He wouldn't do anything to hurt Nick. Not ever. Nick didn't seem to mind that. He stood there and didn't flinch.

"... I can see your spine through there, Nick," Sole said, a little hoarsely. He traced the lower edge of the hole gently, brushed his thumb against it. Nick shivered slightly. "You got your jugular right there on display. You got any idea how much that scares me? Anybody could just ... reach in there and crush it. Take a chunk out of you that you can't put back. Take all your character away. You know how much that frightens me?"

Nick blinked. Once, slowly. His hands were loose and limp down by his sides. Not reaching up. Not trying to defend himself. Nick stood there with Sole's hand at his throat, with Sole talking about reaching in and ripping things out, and Nick didn't for a second try to defend himself. He didn't even seem to think it. Something clenched in Sole's chest. Something seized him hot and hard.

"... Folks don't get that close all that often," Nick said at last, cool and calm. He lifted a brow, smirked a little bit. "I do know how to look out for myself, ya know. Many I didn't once upon a time, but I'm not too shabby these days. The only people usually get that close now ... are the ones I don't mind letting."

There was something in his voice, there. Something warm and gentle and calm, a battered sort of compassion, and the kind of trust that Sole had never dared hope for again. His hand tightened, involuntarily, around Nick's throat, and Nick just smiled at him again. Nick reached up, carefully, and laid his metal fingers gently over Sole's. He gathered up Sole's hand, and guided it gently deeper. Into the hole into his throat. Into that ragged vulnerability. Sole gasped out a ragged breath, just watching it. His hand was shaking inside Nick's. He couldn't find the strength to protest. Torn synth-skin brushed against the sides of his fingers in passing. Wire sheathing touched their tips. The equivalent of Nick's jugular vein pulsed beneath his hand, the cool fragility of his metal spine just behind it. Nick brought Sole's hand there. Nick let him have it. Sole couldn't so much as _breathe_.

"You want to rip my throat out, Sole, all you gotta do is ask," Nick said, with that thing in his voice, warm and dark and gentle. Always gentle. "You wanna close your hand right now, you go right ahead."

"... _No_ ," Sole rasped. He shook his head, his mind a great blank of horror and denial and amazement. He wanted to take his hand back, to pull it out of there, that terrible, incredible space. He wanted to leave it there, to wrap it around Nick's spine like a shield in place of the skin someone'd already torn away. He didn't know _what_ he wanted, what he needed so bad, but he knew that wasn't it. What Nick was talking about. What Nick said. That wasn't anything he would ever, ever want. "I wouldn't ... Nick. I would _never_."

Nick smiled, calm and soft and sweet. "I know," he said, and proved it there and then, taking his hand away gently to leave Sole's buried in his throat. His voice vibrated under Sole's fingertips. Sole could _feel_ the sure, certain hum of it. "That's why I don't mind, kid. Whatever the hell you want, you can have. I know you'd never hurt me."

"... _Jesus_ ," Sole breathed, leaning in. Sagging, nearly, on top of Nick, his fingers still holding that intimate thing in the man's throat with desperate care. Nick bore him up, held him under one elbow and around his waist. Sole could feel the difference in his hands, narrow metal and broad flesh. He could feel exactly who it was that held him in his arms. He couldn't ever mistake Nick for anyone else. "Jesus, Nick," he whispered again, ragged and undone. "I've got your _life_ in my hand. Do you even know what you're saying?"

Nick chuckled. "Sure I do," he said, calm as you please. "I may be old, and I may have another man's memories in my head, but I've not gone senile just yet. I know what I'm saying, Sole. And I mean every word. I really do."

Sole let out a noise, something close to a cry, and leaned the rest of the way in to crush his lips desperately against Nick's. He knew vaguely that he shouldn't, that he'd never discussed this with Nick, never asked if that was the kind of thing Nick wanted, but he had ... he had to _show_ Nick. Everything he was feeling right now, every raw, ragged thing those words made him feel. The horror and the terror and the visceral, gut-wrenching adoration. That much trust. For Nick to give him that much trust. He held Nick's throat in his hand, felt the pulse of Nick's faith right up through his fingers, and it damn near all but killed him. He had to let that show. He had to. He'd stop in a second, stop the moment he felt anything wrong from Nick, but just for a minute first he had to at least let it show.

Nick didn't mind. Not at all. Nick pulled him close, held him in those mis-matched arms, and opened up his mouth to take Sole all the way in. Nick didn't just let it happen, didn't just let Sole say what needed saying. Nick kissed him _back_. Nick wrapped around him and with cool lips and tongue said some things right on back.

Sole felt his hand slip away from Nick's throat, while it happened. He felt his fingers fall loose, felt them slide away from that dark, terrifying place in Nick's neck. They felt different, somehow. Stiff and aching and full of fire, full of some dark hum of another man's life. He tucked them in against his chest, curled them into a protective fist, and leaned more heavily into Nick, into his sturdy, ragged strength. Nick hummed lightly in his throat, still mouthing softly at Sole's lips, and just held him close as he trembled.

"... You're gonna kill me," Sole rasped eventually, when they leaned apart enough to allow it. He drew in ragged gulps of air, his head against Nick's shoulder, curled in against Nick's side and holding on for dear life. "Damnit, Nick. I'm having a heart attack over here. You keep doing shit like that, you're gonna _kill_ me."

Nick chuckled softly, reaching up with his still-intact hand to sift gently through Sole's hair. "Which shit is that?" he asked mildly. "The kissing, or the offering you my life?"

Sole thumped him. He drew up a shaking fist and socked the guy firmly in his battered, synthetic chest. His own chest felt pulverised, after all. His own heart felt beat to shit. Might as well return the favour. "God _damn_ , Nick. I hate you. I hate you so much right now."

Nick laughed, and leaned in to rest his cool forehead against Sole's considerably more heated one. His expression softened, that close. That seamed old face went soft and gentle against Sole's own, as familiar and welcome a thing as anything in this new and battered world had become. Sole felt his shoulders ease, looking at it. He felt the tension run right out of him.

"... It's a dangerous life," Nick whispered lightly, that little smile at the corner of his mouth. "I told you that, pal. It's a hard old life, but it won't ever lack for excitement. Maybe it'll kill ya, yeah. Me, or somebody else. Maybe you'll have that heart attack and wind up dead. So you just gotta think. What do you want to have first, and how much is it gonna be worth it?"

Sole paused a little bit. Felt something hanging there, felt the weight of that question in the air. It felt like ... like a hole in somebody's throat. Like a great big vulnerability, laid open to the world, with something secret and terrible and amazing inside it. He knew what Nick was asking, there. He knew what Nick was suggesting, and damn if it didn't terrify him, and damn if he didn't _want_ it. He'd never thought it was something Nick would ever offer, and damned if he didn't want it more than anything ... almost anything else he had left.

Shit. Nick had given him his _life_. He'd let Sole put his hand right through his throat, let Sole do whatever the hell he pleased. Nick trusted him that much. Nick _loved_ him that much. At this stage of the game, what the hell was that to be running away from?

"... You're a very bad man, you know that?" he said quietly, shaking his head in a bit of ancient, weary amusement of his own. Nick's yellow eyes gleamed happily at him, calm and trusting even still, and Sole just shook his head in warm amazement. "You're lucky I think I might love you, or I'd maybe try put a few more bullets in you myself."

Nick's face seamed open in sudden, brilliant smile, his joy at the words easily visible and contagious as hell. He grinned, for a second there breathtaking enough to knock Sole on his ass, and then he stepped back a little bit to fix his hat and beam brightly over at him.

"Lucky indeed," the detective said brightly. "But hey. It's like I said, isn't it? The dames love a guy who's been around the block a few times. Damn near irresistible, didn't you say?"

And Sole would have popped him one, would have taken issue with it, but ... Well. He wasn't wrong, was he?

The damned old bastard wasn't wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for any mistakes I may have made given my lack of knowledge of canon. I probably should stop writing fic for canons I haven't experienced -_-;


End file.
